Sage in the Clouds
by NeonZangetsu
Summary: Bring us the girl, and wipe away the debt. These were the words given to Booker Dewitt. It was supposed to be a simple job, find the girl, bring her to New York unharmed. That was all. That was BEFORE he met a sage amongst the clouds, a sage who has his own stake in finding this girl and will stop at nearly nothing to have her. NarutoxHarem! First ever Bioshock Infinite crossover.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well, its official! I've played Bioshock Infinite! Just finished the game today, and for me-at first-the ending as a total mindfuck, but then, after witnessing the credits and thinking about it, I can actually say I quite enjoyed the ending. Going to Rapture toward the end was fun, too. Such a shame that they...well, ya know. Anywho I promised myself I would write at least onecrossover once I finished the game, and something about this scene when I first played it simply...struck me. God, I find inspiration in the strangest of places, don't I? I plan to focus mainly on this fic and my latest masterpiece, Die Another Day, alongside Beyond the Shadows. Those two are each a pure Naruto fic, whilst this is a simple-and probably the first-Bioshock Infinite crossover.**

**With that being said...**

**...I hope you enjoy it! Also, may you have a Happy Easter!**

_"I. Exist."_

_~Elizabeth._

**Tails**

"Heads?"

"Or tails?

Booker Dewitt bit back a silent snarl as he pushed past the gate, only to find himself confronted by a stately young man and woman; so alike they might've been twins, were it not for their opposing gender. The former wore a chalkboard around his chest, tallying the number of heads and tails, with the former being in the clear majority, whilst the latter offered a simple platter. Had they made everyone who'd passed through the gate flip a coin to gain entry? It certainly seemed so.

"Come on," he sighed, "Let me through."

"Heads?" the man asked again, flipping a coin towards him, "Or tails?" his companion repeated, the slightest of smiles tugging at her full lips. Booker caught the coin in his right hand with ease, realizing he wouldn't be able to pass without indulging in their little game. Briefly, he weighed his decision. Heads? Or Tails?

"Heads-no wait." Something made Booker change his mind at the last instance._ "Tails."_ He tossed the coin toward the platter before he could change his mind a second time, half-expecting it to turn up as heads merely out of spite for him. Imagine his surprise when instead it turned up as the very same eventuality he'd predicted.

"My," the man seemed genuinely suprised by this outcome. "This _is_ unexpected."

"Hmm." the woman murmurred to herself marking off the result as a single tally on the opposite side of the board. "I didn't find that as satisfying as I'd imagined."

"Find what satisfying?"

"Winning."

"Its not winning if _you're_ the one losing." her companion pointed out with a sour face.

"Chin up." the woman replied, taking the man's arm and tugging him aside. "The outcome should prove more interesting this time."

"I suppose it will."

Booker brushed past the pair as they continued to prattle on; honestly, what did it matter if he'd landed tails instead of heads? It wasn't as if his entire fate hinged on the turn of a coin, right? He could hear a chorus in the far distance, singing "Goodnight Irene, goodnight", a cacophony of lilting voices growing louder with each passing second. He had to make his way to Monument Island, which, if this singing was any indication, was drawing nearer with each and every step. He couldn't afford any delays; despite this, it was impossible to ignore the

That was when he received quite the nasty shock. No sooner had he begun to lower his guard, no sooner had he slowed to take in the majesty and marvel that was this city in the sky, than he found himself face to face with the hand of the devil itself; or at least, Columbia's depiction of it. Barring his path a sign depicting a hellish hand, fingers crooked into claws. Above and below it read:

_"You shall know the False Shepard by his mark!"_

"What the?" Booker balked at the sign; because his right hand bore those very same initials "AD" burned upon the back of his palm for all the world to see. That couldn't be right, could it? He subconcsiously covered his right hand with his left and hurried on, careful What was all this False Shepard business about? And what did it have to do with him? Struggling to stifle his own gorge, and a rising sense of dread, Dewitt pressed on; his wonder withering to ash in his mouth.

_'I'm getting a bad feeling aout this..._

"Splendid!" He heard Fink's laughter just beyond the courtyard. Supposedly the man was responsible for many of Columbia's marvels; including _Possession_ the very same vigor he'd used to secure entry to the raffle. He seemed a pleasant enough sort, but as he knew, appearances often proved deceiving. A sly smile oft hid a dagger in the back, or so the saying went.

Dweitt lingered at the staircase a little moment longer before taking the plunge; descending slowly so as not to draw undue attention to himself. Such a thing was impossible given all those gathered below, but he could dream, couldn't he? Remaining inconspicuous soon proved to be the least of his worries, however.

"And noooow the nineteen-twelve raffle, has officially begun!"

Booker cringed slightly at the exuberance in Fink's voice as he drew nearer; did the man have to be so insufferably loud? His singing had been exuberant enough from a distance but here, this close to the stage, it was nigh unbearable. A loud roar when up from the crowd nevertheless; apparently _they_ couldn't get enough of the man's incessant prattling.

Try as he might, he couldn't find a way through the crowd. For a moment he considered forcing his way through; but at what cost? He didn't want to draw any undue attention to himself, at least not until he was forced to. But what now? He'd never be able to find the girl, not at this rate. Time was of the essence; for every second he wasted in this wondrous world, it was another he drew further away from his objective. Unbidden, the words rang in his mind once more:

_Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt._

He had to, no, he _must_ clear that accursed debt. Idly, he wondered what could be so special about this girl, that he had to bring her to New York. What indeed-

"Hey!" A sharp cry dragged Dewitt from his reverier, bringing him back to the present.

_?_

"Hey mister!" Someone called to him within the throng, "Mister! Wouldn't you like a ball?" Booker finally caught sight of her in the crowd; a young girl of roughly twenty years of age, clad in a festive blue blouse baring her shoulders to the sunny sky. He almost arched an eyebrow at her red-and-white striped skirt, but refrained at the last instant as he saw the basket of baseballs slung around her neck. Closer inspection revealed that nearly everyone in the crowd had one, likely the reason she'd called out to him in the first place.

"Hey handsome!" She waved, beckoning him closer, "Here!"

Booker contemplated her a moment longer, weighing his options. It wasn't as if he had anything to lose by trying.

_'Heh, who knows?'_ he mused._ 'Maybe I'll win passage to Monument Island..._

A thought ocurred to him. He hadn't any money! How was he to participate in the raffle without cash? Simple. He wasn't.

"Sorry," he rebuffed her gently, "No sale."

"Silly," she giggled, bobbing her shoulders at him, "There's never a charge for the raffle! You been sleeping under a rock?"

"Well...

Reluctantly, Booker plunged his right hand into the basket, fingers wrapping around the first baseball he could find, silently hoping he'd picked a winner. He removed it from the basket and showed it to the girl, startled as much by the number itself as well as his sudden stroke of luck. "Seventy-seven." he murmurred as much to himself as the girl. Strange. He couldn't remember the last timbme _that_ had happened. He wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, however...

_"Seventy-seven?"_ the woman purred, delightedly. "Well now, that _is_ a lucky number." She turned away from him_-doubtless to pass out more balls-_but not before breathing one last farwell in Dewitt's ear, "I'll be rooting for you, handsome." Booker let his gaze linger on her hips a little longer than it should have, and likely would've kept there

"Seventy-seven, eh?" A young voice chuckled as soon as she was out of earshot. "Poor bastard."

"S'cuse me?"

Dewitt turned, half-expecting the voice to melt back into the crowd. Instead he found himself face to face with a young man of oriental origin: a mop of sandy blond hair obscuring most of his face, but not his keen blue eyes; _they _were fixated intently upon the baseball clutched within his hand. He was dressed as most of the menfolk were, and yet, there something off about him. Nothing about the youth suggested he was any sort of threat, not the way he held himself, nor his attire, not even the keenness of his gaze made him suspect. His words, however, were another matter.

"It's always seventy-seven, isn't it?" the man chortled softly as he proffered up a baseball of his own...another seventy-seven. "Well, would you look at that?" He smiled and for a moment, just a moment, those serene sapphire orbs weren't sapphire anymore; they were a sinister shade of vile vermillion. "I've got your number, Dewitt." Without another word the blond pocketed the baseball and began to turn away; silent as the grave, disappearing into the crowd like a ghost.

Something about that smile, sent a shiver shooting up Dewitt's spine. _Wait._ How the hell did this whelp know his name? Before he knew what he was doing his arm reached out, grabbing the young man by the shoulder before he could vanish and spinning him around to face him. To his surprise, the blond didn't even so much as struggle. If anything, he seemed...surprised?

"Hey, kid." he began-

Like an iron trap, the blonde's gaze locked onto Dewitt's own. The sheer intensity of its stare, the sudden ice in its expression, was enough to silence Booker. Nothing moved. Nothing at all. And then he spoke, his voice black as pitch, eyes cold as the coldest winter.

"My name," the blond bit out, "Is _not_ kid. It's Naruto."

"Look, Naruto," He ammended at the blonde's cross expression, "How do you know my name?"

"You really do have no clue, don't you?" The lad-he couldn't have been more than twenty-swung around with a start, shrugging of Dewit's hand as though were naught but a feather. His whiskered face was twisted with scorn and derision, but his eyes held perhaps just a sliver of sympathy. "I'll let you in on a little secret." He drew closer, his words little more in a whsiper: "You've changed things. There's no going back. You chose tails instead of heads this time, didn't ya? Well, since ya chose tails, here I am; in other words we finally meet. Who knows, the circle might be broken this time." His gaze softened as he peeled away, patting him once upon the shoulder. "Remember Dewitt, ain't no such thing as luck. You make your own, ya know? Good _or_ bad."

Booker couldn't make heads or tails of the man's words at all. Before he could ask what he meant by them however-

"Bring me the bowl!" Fink cried from atop the stage, soon enough, the ball bearer presented herself. "Is that not the prettiest young white girl in all of Columbia?" he laughed, drawing cheers from the crowd. Not from a certain blond.

"Pah!" Naruto spat in derision. _"Pretty?_ He doesn't know the meaning of the word! Why, back in my village we had-

Fink's words drowned out whatever else he might've said.

"All right then...the winner is...number seventy-seven!"

Booker couldn't quite keep the smile from his face.

_'Well whaddya know..._

"Over here! Over here!" The baseball vendor cried, shouting to make herself heard above the din, "Him! He's the winner!"

"Number seventy-seven come and claim your prize!" Fink declared as the velvet curtain began to roll back from the stage, "First throw!"

"First throw!" the crowd chanted! "First throw! First throw! First throw!"

At fitst, Dewitt didn't understand. What did they mean by first throw? But then, as the curtain parted, his stomach sank to his toes. A young couple, a white man and a black woman, were forced onto stage, their hands bound as the crowd cheered him on. He would be the first to throw the baseball. The first stone. Begging and pleading, sobbing and weeping, they were forced to stand, and face their fate. And there was nothing Dweitt could do about it, nothing he could say to avert the tragedy about to befall them.

Or was there?

_"Bastard."_

Beside him, Naruto hissed out a breath. Booker turned toward the blond, startled to find that the boy was already shoving his way toward the stage, obviously intent on freeing the poor couple. Booker didn't envy him a task like that; he was bound to attract more trouble than was worth. Still, he wished him luck all the same.

"C'mon are you gonna throw it?" Fink goaded him giddily. "Or are you taking your coffee _black_ these days?" Booker didn't bother to weigh the options this time; staying concealed, wasn't worth letting these poor people be stoned to death by baseball. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Naruto storming toward the stairs, making strange gestures with his hands-and then he was gone. One minute the blond was there, the next, an indefatigable blur took its place, rippling with movement as it crept toward the couple.

_'What in the hell?!'_

Booker could barely believe his own eyes; if he hadn't seen the blond for himself he wouldn't have believed it. That same blur was unseen by the crowd, by Fink, by anyone, save Dewitt. They were far too focused on all the festivities; of watching him throw the ball. But he wouldn't be throwing it at the couple. Not today!

"Oh, I'll throw something, you son of a bitch-

The second before the baseball left his palm, an officer grabbed him by the hand.

"It's him!" he shouted, wresting Booker's wrist to the side, exposing his mark. There was a silence. The crowd fell still, all nervous anticipation and apprehension as Jeremiah stooped to look; first at Booker's hand, then square at the man himself. Naruto was no longer anywhere to be seen, nor was the couple; he'd probably freed them in the confusion and slipped out through the curtain. He hadn't long to ponder it however, as a hand wrenched his head back in Fink's direction.

"Now, where'd you get that brand, boy?" Fink sneered, his mustache rising, lips pulled back into a snarl. "Dont'cha know that makes you the back stabbin' snake in the grass 'False Shepard?'" Cries of horror and dismay rose from the audience, all eyes were now fixed on Dewitt and Dewitt alone. "And we ain't letting no False Shepard into our flock!" He flung up his arms in exultation, stirring up the crowd and the officers holding Dewitt down. "Show 'em what we got planned boys!"

One of the officers thrust a strange contraption before his face, its hooks circling menacingly._ Oh shit._ Booker bristled as time began to slow, as the deadly device drew ever closer. Without thinking he tossed the ball up into the air, catching attention of the unarmed man holding his right arm. Sure enough, his gaze drifting toward the baseball, his grip falling slack for a slim second. That was all he needed.

Dewitt didn't think; he acted.

A cry of horrofied dismay rose from the crowd as Dewitt tore his arm free, grabbed the guard by the back of the head and shoved him forward; placing him directly in the path of the skyhook's circling claws. There was a sickening snap, crackle and pop as the whirling gears pulped the man's face, spurting gore in every direction. The resulting impact tore the skyhook free from his compatriot's arm, wedging itself against the bone and flesh of his visage amidst the . Booker didn't waste any time in snatching it up and donning-

But now that very same guard now had a pistol leveled before his face. Dewitt froze, knowing that even with his new weapon, he wouldn't be able to reach the man in time.

_Shit shit shit-_

"Would ya kindly stop cursing?"

Booker balked as the Naruto dropped down behind the officer like a wraith, seized his head from behind, and gave a vile twist; snapping his neck like so much timber. There was a moment of stunned silence as he slumped to the ground, a second of surreal calm whilst the "good people" of Columbia witnessed the act of cold-blooded murder. Then a woman screamed. Her cry was echoed by another, and another and still yet another, until everyone was screaming; running and tripping over one another as they ran for their lives.

The young man vaulted backward, somersaulting over the heads of the crowd to alight at the foot of the stairs. He saw Dewitt and waved.

"Are you going to stand there all day or what?"

Booker had just taken his first steps forward when he heard it:

"Stop them!" Fink cried! "Stop them! The False Shepards' have come to lead our lamb astraaaa_aaaaargh!"_ His words ended in a choking gurgle as a hand locked around his throat, knocking the top hat from his head in a flourish of motion. Cruel crimson eyes lofted before his vision as he found himself hoisted high; lifted from his feet, as though he weighed no more than a cross child. He found his vision beginning to blur at the edges as his aggressor's grip tightened; an insecapable vice from which he could not wrest himself. And who was holding him?

Uzumaki Naruto.

"Hmph." the other Naruto snorted. "Looks like Dewitt really _did_ break the circle this time." He tilted his head aside, a slow, sinister smile drawing the corners of his mouth into a cruel smile. "Ordinarily I've been shot to death by the police at this point. Fascinating how one little change can affect everything else. Wouldn't you agree?"

"No!" Fink gasped, his face beginning to purple around the edges. "Please! Don't! Don't kill me"

"Begging won't help." Naruto admonished. "I've been looking forward to this for a long time." His gaze slid across the stage toward Booker, standing gobsmacked at the stairs. "Would you care to watch, Mr. Dewitt? I'm sure you'll find his death just as satisfying as I will."

"What-how?"

Dewitt did a double take; because _Naruto_ was still standing there on the edge of the stairs, yet he _also_ occupied the center of the stage. How was that possible? Did it have something to do with a vigor? He found those thoughs dispelled as blonde raised his free hand and opened his pam, exposing a spiraling sphere clenched against his fingers. It grew larger with each second, until it encompassed roughly half the size of Fink's face. A twitch of the rist brought the arm back, its keening cry rising over Fink's increasingly desperate pleas.

"I'll give you money! Wealth! Power! Anything!"

"Ja ne," Naruto flexed his fingers and brought the sphere barreling forward to end the life of Jeremiah Fink. What Booker heard next would be burned into his brain for the rest of his life. It was not so much the sight of Jeremiah's head disintegrating into bloody mist, nor was it the sight of the gore-soaked blond standing before him. It was a word. One word, a single series of syllables, uttered just before Naruto had driven that deadly sphere into Fink's face.

_"Rasengan."_

**A/N: And there you have it! For those of you who wonder what Naruto's doing here, I have one thing to say: Tear. Clearly he wants out of this world just as much as a certain someone, but who is to say that'll happen? As you can see I am an adamant believer of the Butterfly Effect, one little change on Dewitt's part has already dramatically altered the events of the timeline. And to answer a question in advance: is Naruto with the Vox Populi? No, he is not. He hasn't even met them yet, being trapped in a recurring loop always ending in his death. Dewitt's little coin flip changed all of that, and now as Naruto put it "the circle is broken". He isn't his usual self in this fic, being in Columbia for so long has hardened him, somewhat. What does this mean for the story? What changes are in store for our characters?**

**One can only imagine. **

**I also imagine Elizabeth might be able to speak Japanese after being cooped up in her tower for so long; I mean if she can pick locks merely from reading than who's to say what else she might've learned? This'll be one hell of a crossover as the name suggests, infinite paths , infinite possibilities, infinite endings. Hence, the harem bit. I know we're not in Rapture at the moment, but I'll say in anway just for the hell of it:**

**In the immortal words of Altas...**

**...review, would you kindly? I'm also open to ideas for the pairing(s)!**

**R&R! =D**


	2. Sage

**A/N: Well, its official! I've played Bioshock Infinite! Just finished the game today, and for me-at first-the ending as a total mindfuck, but then, after witnessing the credits and thinking about it, I can actually say I quite enjoyed the ending. Going to Rapture toward the end was fun, too. Such a shame that they...well, ya know. Anywho I promised myself I would write at least onecrossover once I finished the game, and something about this scene when I first played it simply...struck me. God, I find inspiration in the strangest of places, don't I? I plan to focus mainly on this fic and my latest masterpiece, Die Another Day, alongside Beyond the Shadows. Those two are each a pure Naruto fic, whilst this is a simple-and probably the first-Bioshock Infinite crossover.**

**With that being said...**

**...I hope you enjoy it! **

_"To see a wrong and not expose it, is to become a silent partner to its continuance."_

_~?_

**Sage**

Uzumaki Naruto was perversely pleased with himself.

Finally. Finally he was free of this accursed loop! What's more, the rest of his abilities-yatta!-had also returned unto him. Sweet blessed _chakra_ coursed through his veins empowering each strike, allowing him to crush men's skulls like carboard and that was _without_ sage mode. With sage mode...well, it was like shooting fish in a barrel, as the saying went up here. Naruto had never truly understood that saying until now. _Now_ as he ruthlessly ripped a chunk of flesh from an officer's arm, he understood. These men were no match for him. It was all they could do to flee, and even then he picked them off one by one. Fish in a barrel indeed!

"Don't you need a weapon?!" he heard Booker's shout echo somewhere behind him.

"Nope!" Naruto answered as he boxed a man in the face, effectively shattering his lower jaw. And it was true. He didn't. He knew how to wield the weapons but chose not to; he'd much rather get up close and personal with his enemy at the moment, watch the light leave their eyes as they died. And he did just that, sullying his suit with blood and gore for each victim sent to the underworld. Those he didn't reach, Booker made rather short work of with his pistol, or turned on one another with the Possession vigour.

Naruto wasn't quite sure how he felt about this Booker Dewitt, this ally of his. He'd seen the man countless times in the loop, yet never had a chance to speak to him; to warn him of what was to come. But now that the man had chosen tails, they had met and the accursed loop was dead and gone. Or was it? Was he destined to escape from one paradox only to become trapped in another? Ugh! He didnt want to think about that. Just a thought like that was nearly enough to drive him to madness. He _would_ make it to the tower this time, and he _would_ get the hell out of this world and back to his own. Just how he knew the tower entailed this, he knew not. Only that something was tugging him in that direction like a siren call, whispering his name over and over aganin...

_Naruto..._

"Call out the fireman!"

_"Fireman?!"_

Naruto frowned at the cry; he didn't like the sound of that one. From what little the loop had allowed him to see of this world, he was beginning to learn that anything related to fire was foul. Fire bad. Fire _veeery_ bad. A laugh danced on the edge of his lips at the thought. He was going to enjoy exacting punishment on the ones who had brought him to this world, moreso those who'd trapped him in this infernal loop. But first, _fiirst,_ he'd entertain these fools-these cretins!-who dared to think he could stand in his way!

Grinning, he raised a hand. He was going to enjoy this.

"Chou...Odama...

_Supremely!_

* * *

Booker was left aghast as his unlikely ally made short work of the police. The man moved like a creature possessed, breaking necks and severing limbs like it was no one's bussiness. And all without any kind of weapon to aid him. Barehanded! On occasion he would utilize strange symbols with his attacks, creating copies_-living, breathing clones-_to assist him in his extermination. Booker still believe there was some strange sort of vigor at work here; after all, one did not simply create copies of oneself without assistance. He wanted to be shut of this madness! Get the girl, bring her to New York, and be shut of this maddened world! And yet Naruto was doing most of the work for him, so why was he stopping on a sudden? Why, for that matter, was the blond raising his hand_-lord!_

_"Chou Odama Rasengan!"_

Dewitt nearly ducked as a spiraling sphere, even larger than the last, came crashing down upon the hapless squad of soldiers. Naruto tossed it like a bowling ball, obliterating them like pitiful pins._ "Striiiiiiike!"_ the blond cackled madly to himself as he skipped back to Booker's side. Was the man actually enjoying himself? It certainly seemed so.

"It's the fireman!" Came the cry as Booker obliterated a hapless turret. "He's here! He'll take care of those sonsa bitches!"

Naruto and Booker exchanged a terse glance.

"Did he just say fireman?" the former pinkerton grimaced.

"I think so." Naruto shrugged.

"What's a fireman?"

"I thought you knew."

"I thought you did!"

"Well, I don't."

"But I thought you did."

"Obviously, I don't!"

Booker opened his mouth to reply. Snapped it shut.

"We're starting to sound like those twins, aren't we?"

"Quite." Naruto agreed.

"Lets stop, then."

"Lets."

Together, they strode down the street without another word; leaving Booker keenly aware of the blonde's rapid pace. This Naruto fellow certainly seemed to know where he was going, or at the very least he had a good sense of direction. He couldn't bring himself to be certain of either. And how could he walk about with his clothes in such a state? Naruto was still covered in blood from his gory exploits; his suit utterly soiled by streaks of black and crimson viscera. What's more, he seemed utterly unfazed by it.

"Oh, this?" Naruto blinked, tugging at a tattered sleeve. "Hmm, I suppose I should undo the genjutsu now. No point in pretending to be something I'm not now that we've come this far, ya know?"

"Gen-what?"

Rather than explain, the shinobi pressed his hands together.

_"Kai!"_

His clothes seemed to shimmer, the pin-striped suit and tie vanishing in a haze of murky fog. When Booker could finally see properly, he was mildly alarmed to find the boy was clad in something he'd never seen before in all his life. A dull green vest covered the entirety of his chest, laid atop a dark-sleeved shirt ending in formidabble looking bracers on either arm. Loose slacks had replaced the pin-striped pants he'd been wearing less than a minute before, flaring out to reveal open-toed sandals as his chosen footwear.

A strange metal band circled his forehead, pushing up the tattered mess of his hair. What was that insignia? It looked like...a leaf?

"Ah!" The blond stretched with a pleasant sigh. "You have no idea how good it feels to be back in my old chunin gear again! It's been years since I wore-" His smile was swift to fade, however, as he turned his attention to Booker, finding him listening intently. "Nevermind." Sobered by some thought or another, the blond pressed on ahead of him.

"I should warn you though," He advised as they neared the gate, "Things are about to become very strange for you, Mr. Dewitt."

"No kidding. And will you stop calling me that?" he sighed. "I told you back in the plaza, its Booker. Just Booker will do."

The oriental gentleman snickered on a sudden; he seemed to find something infinitely amusing about what had just been said. He guffawed, his chest rising and falling with rapid breath, nearly heaving with unabashed mirth. Baffled by the blonde's burst of enthusiasm, he could only wait for his fit of giggles to subside before asking the burning question.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing." Naruto chuckled, wiping a mirthful tear from his right eye. "Its just...

A sudden explosion stole his words. They exchanged a glance.

"I suppose that's our cue." Naruto strode forward, stopping just within range of a large gate, placing his back to it. He gestured imperiously, a smile prancing at the edges of his mouth. "Would you kindly, Booker-san?"

"It getting hot." Booker gasped, keenly aware of the sweat beading upon his brow as he pushed open the gate. "What's going on?"

"..."

They soon found their answer.

Standing there in the square was a creature straight out of nightmare. It had been a man, once. No longer. Trapped in an iron-maidenesque suit from head to toe, the poor soul loosed a searing scream to greet the two of them, its keening mournful cries reverberating within its metal helm. With a roar, it stomped towards them. And then it started flinging fireballs. Great, blazing balls of fire, as though they were grenades! A rattling of sound and fury reverberated beyond its helm as it stormed forward.

_"Burn in the name of the prophet!"_

Naruto blanched.

"Incoming!"

The pair of green dumpsters next to then suddenly exploded as the flaming missiles descended upon them, missing the pair by a hair's width before incinerating the metal containers. Naruto rolled off to the side as the Fireman's blast extinguished upon the concrete, the sleeves of his uniform sizzling from the heat, his eyes burning like hot coals as he gazed across the burning plaza. With a quick twist of his body, he spun himself off the concrete and quickly launched into the air at his grotesuqe it was Dewitt's turn to blanch.

What on earth was he thinking?!

"Oh great!" Booker growled, his molars grinding in aggravation as he sought shelter behind a building and opened fire with the pistol. As if their situation weren't dire enough! Now, they had a monster flinging fireballs at them! What more could possibly go-

"Eat this!" Naruto's enraged cry reverberated across the charred landscape to ring sound in his ears. Booker saw him make those strange symbols with his hands again. This time no clones emerged. The blond drew in a mighty breath, his chest swelling with rising air. Before he could ask just what the devil he was doing, he exhaled. Sharply.

_"Suiton." He_ hissed angrily, his eyes flashing a scintilating shade of scarlet._ "Mizurappa!"_

For once, Booker shared the Fireman's disbelief. This had to be another vigour; this tidal wave of water that burst from the blonde's lips to sweep across the flaming plaza to extinguish the flames. Naruto exhaled for a second time; a tight, concentrated pulse slammed into the unprepared fireman, ripping him from his feet like a thing alive. A mournful wail left that suit as the blast flung him over the wall, through a gondola, and cast him over the edge to his doom

He dropped something as he fell, the item clattering at the ledge. A bottle?

Booker bent to retrieve it, contemplated the crimson bottle.

"Devil's kiss, huh?" he eyed the flask warily. Another vigour, then. Lord knew he could use the help."Well, you only live once."

"Ah, Dewitt!" Naruto warned. "I wouldn't-

Unscrewing the cap, the former pinkerton knocked a bit back and forced himself to swallow. That was a mistake. Scarce had he done so than he felt it. _Pain._ He could only yelp in shock and surprise as he began to burn like wildfire, the flesh of his hands charring away beneath a smoldering wave of heat. "Aaaagh!" The flask slipped from his now skinless hands, leaving him writhing in agony. And then, then, just when he was certain it would grow no worse, that he could take no more...

...the pain stopped.

Booker blinked through the red haze and marveled at his hands. They were complete. Untouched. Whole. Had it all been an illusion then? A figment of his own imagination? He flexed his fingers, just to be certain.

"Well," he coughed, "That wasn't no sample."

"That one never gets old."

Naruto never did have a chance to finish that sentence; because a nearby gate swung open, disgorging a horde of officers.

"Talk later!" Booker growled. "Shoot now!"

Naruto rolled his shoulders in a shrug and followed him into the Blue Ribbon restaurant. Remarkably he held his silence...until they reached the bar.

"Not this again!"

"We have company." the gentleman anounched, pausing in his cleaning of the bar counter.

"We do indeed."

"Why are you following me?" Booker demanded, "Er, I mean us." he ammended at Naruto's displeased grunt."

"We were already here." the gentleman replied. "Why are YOU following US? I...

"Aparitiff?" his companion inquired.

Naruto snickered again.

"Heh."

Booker glowered.

"Some inside joke you wanna let me in on?"

"Oh no." The blond shook his head in the negative. "Its just...amusing, ya know?" He returned his attention to the engimatic pair, his gaze gliding to the try the woman held and the strange, golden vial perched atop it. "You might want to drink that, though." Dewitt arched an eyebrow. Naruto shrugged. "Or not. If you fancy dying...

Fo

"Ugh...what was that?" Booker gagged.

"Hmm." the woman remarked. "Surprising."

"Surprising that it worked?" her companion inquired.

"Surprising that it didn't kill him."

"But a magnetic repulsive field around one's body _can_ come in handy."

"If it doesn't kill you."

"A fair point."

Booker sighed as they pressed on, leaving the odd pair behind. It wasn't all that long before they encountered their next obstacle; a lack of solid ground to traverse. The only feasible way across appeared to be a select number of hooks hanging from the rooftop. Dewitt eyed the Skyhook on his arm thoughtfully. Nothing to lose-except his life!-and everything to gain. He drew back several paces.

"Maybe I could hook onto them with the Skyhook." With a running leap, he lunged for the hook, only to be yanked upright. "Whoa!" He cried! "Damn thing must be magnetized!" Naruto's laughter echoed somewhere to the south of him, and it was only then that Dewitt realized their conundrum; the blond didn't possess a skyhook of his own.

"Over here!"

Booker nearly fell from the hook; such was his shock! The man was standing on the wall beside him, grinning from ear to ear. Standing. Defying the very laws of gravity themselves.

"How the hell are you doing that?!" Booker balked. "What kind of vigour is-"

"Vigour?" Naruto scoffed. "Puh-lease! This is chakra."

"What-

"Sh!" The blond pressed two fingers to his lips, his gaze sliding toward a nearby landing. A lone guard patrolled just below, blissfully unaware of the two men hanging over his head. He whistled tunelessly, glanced this way and that, but finding nothing, continued on.

Naruto eyed the guard with an almost predatory grin.

"Shall I?" he enquired.

"Do it." Booker agreed.

With a running start and a bloodcurdling war whoop, the blond leapt from the wall's edge and landed firmly atop the guard driving the hapless man to the ground in a tangle of arms and limbs and strangled curses. The man's struggles quelled the moment the shinobi's hands latched onto his neck and gave a savage twist. Even as he fell the blond was already moving on; pouncing upon a hapless guard armed only with a billy club. He was almost grateful for the fog, Booker was, as a bloodcurdling scream grated his ears. By the time Booker managed to land, Naruto had already dispensed of the last of them.

_"Everyone stay calm!"_ A female voice blared through the loudspeakers of a nearby gunship._ "And lock your doors if you can."_ It swept closer still, revealing a host of soldiers, each armed to the teeth. And still, the voice droned endlessly on. _"The prophet foresaw this day would come and he **is** prepared. The answer is not in panic, but in prayer! We must-_

_"Prayer?"_

Booker turned, just in time to witness Naruto's body lock up. The blond froze in midstep, his eyes bulging so large he was certain they'd bulge right out of his head.

Then he began to grin.

A tiny smile broke out on Naruto's chiseled face, like a crack etching along a stone surface. He laughed, then; it was a deep, throaty sound, not a thing like himself. The wind, keening like a lost child, stirred his ragged blond hair caressing it with cold fingers, gathering in the palm of his hand as Dewitt looked on.

"I am getting reallly...fucking tired...of hearing this shit!"

Naruto snarled, his pupils dilating as increased adrenaline began to pump through his system, his visible eye blue. And bright with bloodlust.

_Shit,_ Dewitt wondered nervously as he watched the man. A thrill of fear ran its flighty fingers up his spine. _Just..._

_... who the hell is this guy?!_

Naruto's teeth gleamed wolfishly in the shadow of his ragged locks.

"Ya might want to step back a bit, Dewitt." His voice rose over the din. "I wouldn't want you to be caught in the backlash."

"Ha?"

**_...here it comes!"_**

The keening of the wind erupted into a furious roar; a veritable tornado swirling in his palm, compressed into a sinister sphere. Booker balked at it, his crew balked at it, hell, everyone did! Naruto thrust his hand toward the skies, his scream lost over the howling storm.

"That's some screech," The former pinkerton winced, cringing as the wind whipped itself higher and higher. Even at this range he found he had to cover his own ear just to drown out the incessant shrieking of the rising maelstrom. The bitter keening of the wind rose in pitch, scouring the tormented hell that they found themselves in. And still it spiraled higher, sparking and spitting in the blonde's upturned palm. His eyes flashed a foul crimson color, his pupils snapping slitted as he brought his arm back to launch the massive technique.

"Would you kindly step aside?" he asked pleasantly.

Booker Dewitt had less than an instant to register these words before Naruto flung his technique forward. He lurched into motion, arching his back in mid-lunge. His hair blew across his face, as _something_ passed with impossible speed overhead. He glimpsed nothing more than a ripple in the air itself, the faintest whisp of steam or mist wadded into a ball like so much discarded parchment. Had he not been looking right at it, indeed, _expecting_ something very much like it, he'd never have known it was there.

The gunship didn't even have time to bank away; one moment Naruto was holding it, the next, he flung it, just like its namesake.

_"Rasenshuriken!"_

The world erupted.

Sundered stone and shattered debris was the blood of the sky, gushing from the wound inflicted by its attacker's invisible hammer. A ferocious tide slammed into Booker, threatening to knock him from his feet and fling him off the edge of Columbia. For the first time he was actually grateful of his grip on the nearby guardrail. Blood, bullets, bits of cloth_-even a smattering of dead bodies and arms-_rained across them, blinding Booker to almost anything, everything else. He dared to open an eye

Naruto looked on, smug with satisfaction. As he looked on, the blond raised a hand, pressed two his thumb and index finger together. A smaller, but by no means less deadly rasenshuriken hung between them. Naruto raised his arm, drew his wrists back in preparation.

"Wait for it...

He made a flicking motion with his fingers and the world burned white.

_BA-KRAM!_

Dewitt's ears rang with a second, deafening _crrrraaaaaack_, follwed by an equally enormous explosion as something_-undoubtedly that gunship_-dropped from the sky, sinking like a stone. Blood spattered his face, the surface of the floor itself roiling against his legs and even without sight Booker Dewitt knew something had happened. Even as he struggled to come to terms with it all, he could hear Naruto speaking to him. Just as he could feel the blond tugging at his arm, guiding him onward while his vision recovered.

"C'mon," the sage muttered, ushering him forth. "We can't keep that little lady waiting now, can we ?"

Numbed, Booker allowed himself to be led on. And all the while, he wondered:

_Just who are you, Naruto?_

**A/N: And there you have it! For those of you who wonder what Naruto's doing here, I have one thing to say: Tear. For those of you who realized; yes, this fic _may_ cross with my other Bioshock fic "Daddy Won't You Please Come Home" in several ways. I mean, think about it. Infinite, time period-wise, is essentially a prequel to both Bioshock 1 & 2. Vigors are also the predecessors I believe of Plasmids. Teleport may not have to go through just space, it could easily phase through do time, too...See where this is going? **

**Two Naruto's?! Madness I say! MADNESS!**

**Kudos to those of you who may have guessed this; Elizabeth's fascination is with Japan this time around, not Paris. Hence her sudden fixation with Naruto. I honestly just want to Rasenshuriken that damned songbird but I caaaaaaaan't. At least not yet. I still need him around for the purpose of the story...**

**I also imagine Elizabeth might be able to speak Japanese after being cooped up in her tower for so long; I mean if she can pick locks merely from reading than who's to say what else she might've learned? This'll be one hell of a crossover as the name suggests, infinite paths , infinite possibilities, infinite endings. Hence, the harem bit. I know we're not in Rapture at the moment, but I'll say in anway just for the hell of it:**

**In the immortal words of Altas...**

**...review, would you kindly? I'm also open to ideas for the pairing(s)! WE GET TO SEE ELIZABETH NEXT CHAPPY!**

**R&R! =D**


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